


Exceeding Expectations

by WhatSoMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Booty Calls, Confident Neville Longbottom, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grey Sweatpants, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Neville is Not a Virgin, Porn with Feelings, Sexy Pansy Parkinson, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatSoMalfoy/pseuds/WhatSoMalfoy
Summary: Neville Longbottom is rudely awakened in the middle of the night. Expecting an emergency, he rushes to open the door and encounters his colleague, Pansy Parkinson.Does he invite her in?Of course, he does.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Exceeding Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> What was supposed to be a little bit of fun, a drabble full of smut to get the creative _juices_ rolling, turned into this little one shot. Thank you to Tygermine for challenging me to get it done!
> 
> A big shout out to Shamione for making me such a gorgeous pretty and aesthetic!

Banging. Loud banging. On his front door. Dazed, Neville rolled out of bed and rushed to the door. A quick glance at the clock told him it was three in the morning. Adrenalin pumped through his veins—only an emergency could bring someone calling at this time of night. He threw open the door of his flat, ready for anything.

Except that.

“Parkinson?” He greeted, the adrenalin dissipating. 

Pansy leaned against his door frame. Her dress was too tight, too short and too green. Even in the lack of light, he could see how it picked up the flecks in her hazel eyes. Something he did not need to take note of. 

Pushing off the door frame, Pansy lifted a hand high and trailed it over the wood she’d just been leaning against. “Evening, Longbottom. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Neville stepped back and allowed Pansy entry to his home. They’d been working well together for the last few months, but she’d never visited his home before. It was… unnerving. “Do you have any idea what time it is, Parkinson?”

“Oh, did I wake you?” She asked, a small smirk on her face. “It’s very _green_ in here, Longbottom.”

His body was starting to catch up with his sleep-deprived mind. And though it was still the middle of the night, _every_ part of him was waking up and in the grey sweatpants that he slept in, his morning wood would be quite obvious. Pansy stood stroking the leaves of his Asphodel as if she’d done it a million times. Willing his body to calm-the-fuck down, he moved past Pansy, very cautious to remain casual. In the kitchen, he filled the kettle and moved it to the stove. “I like plants. I thought you knew that about me. Tea?” he offered.

“Tea-quila?” Pansy responded, joining him in the small kitchen. “If you have it.”

Neville threw an incredulous look over his shoulder but removed the kettle from the heat. Rummaging through his small liquor cabinet, Neville pulled out a half-full bottle of Patron and set it on the counter with two shot glasses. Pansy raised her eyebrows in delighted surprise as Neville filled them and handed one to her. Together, they clinked glasses and downed the contents. With a slight wince, Neville set his glass on the counter, wishing for a wedge of lime. 

“What are you doing here, Parkinson?” She had moved closer to him, almost close enough to touch—invading his personal space. She placed her glass on the counter behind him and lifted her eyes to meet his.

“I’m here to swipe your v-card, Longbottom,” she responded, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and trailing one sharp, glossy black fingernail down his bare chest. Plucking her hand away from his body, Neville moved back towards the living room and took a seat next to his Mimbulus Mimbletonia.

“I’m not a virgin, Pansy,” he scoffed, reclining in the one-seater. She followed him and stood before him once more. She was so sexy in her scant excuse for a dress and too-high heels, and despite his annoyance at her assumption, Neville couldn’t deny his attraction to her. He’d been attracted to her longer than he’d care to admit, despite the rocky history. 

“Ok, so you’re not a virgin,” she said with a smirk, lifting just one shoulder in a casual shrug. She reached for the purple blossoms of his Aconite plant and he caught her wrist before she came into contact. His grip tightened on her wrist briefly before he let her go.

“Careful, Parkinson,” he warned. His voice was low and gravelly, “She’s delicate and temperamental. We shouldn’t make assumptions about things we aren’t well informed on, should we?”

Pansy swallowed thickly and had the good grace to blush before taking a seat of her own—on his lap. With a knee on either side of his legs, her already short skirt rode up further. Pansy placed his hands on her hips and Neville willed his blood to stop thrumming through his body. It was one thing that his heart was racing, and another entirely if it were to pool somewhere more sensitive—say in a place Pansy was bound to notice. 

“We’re about to cross a rather thick line, Parkinson. Are you sure you don’t want to just show yourself out?”

Pansy huffed. “I’ve been dropping the most obvious hints for months now, Longbottom. _Months_ , mind. And you haven’t picked up a single one—so I’ve decided to take things into my own hands.”

Neville’s grip on her hips tightened in a way that she thought might leave bruises later. 

_Finally_.

“Tell me, Pansy—what made you think I was a virgin?” Neville cocked his head to the side. His heart was racing, his palms were sweating against the fabric of her dress, but his voice was steady, thick, and low. He saw her pulse jump in her throat as she adjusted her position on his lap, sliding closer to his torso, shifting over him and feeling him harden beneath her. 

“You’re always so nervous around women… around me,” she started, her voice confident. She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth and rocked her hips backwards, just once, her eyes alight and fixed on his. “You fumble and you drop things. You—” her breath hitched as she rocked over him again. Neville suppressed a smirk of his own. “You act as if you have no experience.”

“Maybe that’s all it is, Parkinson—an act,” Neville said, his eyes locked on hers.

“Is it?” She questioned, her head cocked.

Neville released a small chuckle and slid his hands up her back. His fingers circling light patterns across her back until he found the straps to her dress, slipping them down her shoulders. “No,” he admitted. “Clumsy nervousness is my natural state.”

“You’re not clumsy or nervous right now,” she noted as he released the zipper at her back.

“No,” he admitted, “you’re in my house now, Parkinson.”

“Then you should give me a tour, Longbottom.”

Pansy offered Neville a fantastic view of her porcelain breasts, clad in barely there black lace, but he ignored them in favour of the lips she presented so willingly. He buried his hands in her short black hair and pulled her towards. Months of sexual tension and unsaid words culminated in fireworks erupting between them as their lips met in a clash of fury. Pansy moaned into his mouth as he lapped at her lips, with a gasp her lips separated and Neville filled the gap greedily, pulling her closer to him at the same time. Pansy pulled away and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. 

“At least show me the bedroom, Longbottom,” she gasped, catching her breath.

Catching his hands around her hips, Neville had them up and out of the chair in one swift motion. Pansy refused to give in to the surprised giggle blossoming in her throat, she wouldn’t give him that sort of satisfaction. She might feel as giddy as a school girl, but that didn’t mean she needed to sound like one. Neville didn’t offer her a tour of his flat as he moved through it and Pansy didn’t pay any attention to where they were going. Her eyes were closed as her lips, teeth and tongue lavished attention on his neck—from his pulse point to his collar bone. 

Neville swung his bedroom door open, reluctantly set Pansy on the floor and missed her warmth immediately. He helped her shed the dress that still clung to her delicious body in rebellion until she stood in front of him, shimmering creamy skin, black lace and satin strings. This time he gave himself a moment to appreciate the vision in front of him and wonder how he managed to capture her attention at all. Unabashed, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra strap, letting it fall from her shoulders. Hooking her thumbs through the sides of her underwear, she shimmied once and relieved herself of those, too. Proud and beautiful, Pansy stood naked in front of Neville, her nipples hardening to pebbles in the cool air. Neville let his eyes track over her body, in no apparent hurry to move. Pansy narrowed her eyes at him, expectant.

Neville’s cock jumped in his pants, clearly visible through the grey jogging pants he wore. Pansy quirked an eyebrow at him, unashamed to be appraised and appreciated. But impatience was getting the better of her. “Your turn,” she insisted, waving her hand towards the impeding garment. 

With an amused puff of air, Neville pushed at the elasticised band of his pants until they pooled around his ankles. Equally unembarrassed, Neville gave Pansy time for her eyes to wash over and evaluate him. Despite her eagerness, she took her time in her evaluation. Stepping closer, Pansy placed a hand on his shoulder, letting her fingers trail over his body as she circled him like a lioness would her prey. Goosebumps erupted over his skin wherever she left her mark, shivering at the loss of her touch. After several moments of torture, Neville was fit to implode. With snake-like reflexes, he snatched at her wrist and drew her into his chest, fitting his lips against hers once more. A shift to her hips and she was wrapping her legs around his waist, her slick core sliding against his hard cock; a spark of friction against her clit had her gasping into his mouth as he lowered her onto the bed. She fell onto the mattress with a soft thud and a little bounce, and Neville lowered himself over her and introduced his lips to other, more sensitive parts of her body. Her neck, her breasts—with special attention to her perfectly pebbled nipples; sucking, teeth grazing and blowing cool air against them. Pansy moaned and arched into his touch. Neville admired the way her skin reacted to his ministrations; the gooseflesh so pretty on her. He kissed his way down her chest, across her stomach and paused at the apex of her thighs. Pansy’s breath hitched in her throat, anticipation coursed through her veins, causing her to buck her hips into his face. 

Neville grinned into her cunt and set to work, relishing in the way that Pansy writhed beneath him. With his tongue on her clit and two fingers inside of her, she came undone hard and fast around him—much to her surprise and Neville’s double satisfaction. He’d prove to her that her mislaid assumptions were wrong. 

“Fuck me, Longbottom,” she sighed. Her words were slow, strung out, satisfied. 

Neville made his way back up the bed, his hands and mouth sliding back over her body, worshipping her until his lips found hers once more. “I fully intend to,” he said.

Pansy’s eyes flew open to meet his just in time to see his shit-eating grin as he buried himself balls deep inside her. Mewling, Pansy arched off of the bed and pushed her chest up into his. Her pelvis following suit and changing the angle at which their bodies met. Her breath hitched again and Neville knew he had the sensitive place hidden within her. Slipping his hands underneath her, he tipped them both upwards until he was sitting with her on top of him, still connected. Pansy threw her head back and groaned loudly as Neville thrust deeply into her. 

“Gods, Longbottom. Yes, there. _There_ ,” Pansy stuttered as she moved on top of him. Neville suppressed a superior grin. He might have been a late bloomer in the sex department as Pansy had hinted at, but it hadn’t taken him long to discover that he was an above-average partner. Gloating was never a good look, but Neville knew when he could get away with it—and that moment was less than a minute away if the way that Pansy was clenching around him was any indication. He tightened his grip on her hips and fixed his mouth to her right nipple, using his tongue to pebble and then tease it before switching to the other. Pansy’s movements turned faster, more erratic and Neville matched her pace. Just as Pansy stilled above him her walls fluttered around his cock, he followed her over the edge and into ecstasy. 

A moment or two later, Pansy flopped back against Neville’s mattress and erupted into a round of hysterical giggles. Neville joined her, leaning against the backboard and catching his breath and a lingering smile on his face. “Tell me, Parkinson. What exactly is so funny?”

“Merlin, Morgana and Circe, Longbottom. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I was coming here for _that_! Gods, how did you get so good at sex? Actually, don’t tell me—I don’t want to know.”

Neville turned to her, still smirking in the afterglow. “Good thing I have no interest in telling you, then.”

He turned to look at her as she lay against his pillows, her short hair mussed and a small smile still playing on her face. She turned her face up to look at him, eyes drooping as she pulled at the duvet cover underneath her. “Just give me ten minutes to recover, Longbottom, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Mmhmm,” Neville intoned. As he watched Pansy fall asleep next to him in his bed, he had a strange feeling that it was exactly where she belonged—next to him. Silently, he hoped that she would never leave.

And she never did. 


End file.
